


follow me home if you dare to

by youmeandem



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: But Kara And Lena Don't Die, Crisis Isn't Happening, Dead People, F/F, Haunted Houses, Horror, post-reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21717862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youmeandem/pseuds/youmeandem
Summary: A shiver that has nothing to do with the cold runs down Lena’s spine. Her entire body screams at her to turn around and leave.or:kara and lena investigate a location from one of lex's journals and get more than they bargained for
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 32
Kudos: 252





	follow me home if you dare to

It’s quiet in the car.

Lena keeps her eyes strictly on the road in front of them. She occasionally glances in the rearview mirror, even though they haven’t seen another vehicle in the past two hours. Indeed, when her eyes flicker to the rearview mirror again the road behind them is completely deserted.

She avoids, at all cost, to glance sideways. She prefers to just completely ignore Kara’s presence, hence the quiet.

(Maybe she also knows Kara hates it. Kara prefers stumbling through an awkward conversation over letting a silence fall between them.)

At the start of the trip, Kara had fiddled with the radio a bit, but after an hour or so Lena had turned it off without comment and Kara hadn’t turned it back on again.

It’s a little childish, but it’s all Lena can do not to fall apart.

She checks the rearview mirror again, more out of habit than anything else.

“No one’s following us.” Kara’s voice is a stark contrast against the deafening silence from before, sounding a lot louder than it actually is. “I’d know if they were.”

Lena’s grip on the steering wheel tightens; her knuckles turn white. It takes all her willpower to ignore Kara. She hasn’t quite shaken the instinct to look for Kara in every room she enters yet, one that she spent years perfecting.

Kara lets out a soft sigh, and from the corner of Lena’s eye she sees her turning away to look out the window.

Lena: 1, Lena’s stupid useless instinct: 0.

To be perfectly clear: Lena’s not worried someone’s following them. They’d be stupid to. There’s a handgun in Lena’s purse and, oh, one of them is Supergirl. Checking your rearview mirror is just common practice while driving, but apparently Kara doesn’t know that. Maybe it’s because she can hear whenever someone’s behind her and doesn’t actually need to look.

Lena doesn’t actually know the intricate details of Kara’s powers; just that she has them and knows how to use them. She never thought about how they might affect Kara’s normal, every day life and the way she interacts with the world when she’s supposed to pretend everything is fine.

She tells herself she doesn’t care. Kara betrayed her and she doesn’t care about her well-being.

(The irony of the lie she tells herself doesn’t go unnoticed. Instead it gets shoved neatly into a tiny little box, right next to the harboring feelings Lena still hasn’t been able to shake and the stubbornness to refuse to acknowledge that maybe Kara’s motivations had nothing to do with her at all.)

Still, though. If Kara doesn’t check her rearview mirror, Lena’s glad that she’s the one behind the wheel instead of her.

It’s been a few hours since they left the city limits of National City, admittedly in quite a hurry, and the December sun is starting to set. The world around them is rapidly starting to plunge into darkness and they’re far enough from any civilization for the streetlights to be all but gone.

Lena flicks on the high beams of her headlights for a better view of the road, illuminating the forest lying in front of them.

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Kara asks, breaking the silence once more. She’s sitting up straight, her glasses slightly lowered as she peers over them. “There’s nothing but woods for miles and miles.”

“I know where I’m going,” Lena says shortly. She still doesn’t turn to look at Kara, although now it’s mostly because she worries that if she takes her eyes off the road for more than a second they’ll wrap around a tree.

Kara doesn’t ease up. “If we’d flown we’d already have been there.”

If they’d flown Kara would’ve had to hold Lena in her arms while they soared through the sky, the front of her body pressed against Lena’s back. Even the thought is barely bearable, let alone the sensation of their bodies flushed together, the cold wind breaking against their faces.

“I’m scared of heights,” Lena says, because it’s true. She doesn’t add that all the times she’s flown with Supergirl—Kara—she hadn’t been frightened at all.

Kara doesn’t push, thankfully, and Lena puts her focus back on driving. The road gets significantly narrower as the trees around them seem to multiply, until it’s nothing more than just a patch of asphalt pretending to be a real road.

With the density of the trees blocking whatever remaining sunlight it’s now pitch black all around them, save for the headlights paving a path of light in front of them.

They drive like this for about twenty minutes. Lena’s forced to slow to an agonizing pace, the road slowly deteriorating with every passing mile. It’s evident no one’s been here for a number of years, and the quiet has reached a new peak. Even the car engine seems to be aiming for as little noise as possible and has resided to nothing more than a slight hum.

Lena’s sure the silence is infuriating for Kara, even if she doesn’t show it.

“Lena,” Kara pauses to fumble with her glasses. “This path isn’t leading anywhere. I’ve looked and—"

“Why can’t you just trust me to know what I’m doing?” Lena interrupts, pumping the breaks as she looks to her right. Her whole body seems to exhale at the sight of Kara, or rather the outline of Kara against the stark vastness of the dark.

“I do trust you, _I do_ , but I can see there’s nothing here,” Kara says, her tone hinting at exhaustion. “It’s just trees for miles and miles and nothing else. Just trees.”

Lena tears her eyes away from Kara’s vague shape, carefully brushing the gas with her foot again. “Have you ever stopped to consider that we’re going to my brother’s most secret compound? One that no one knew even existed before I found those journals and translated the code? He never intended for anyone to ever find this place, and he made sure it’s unfindable.”

“So how are we supposed to find it? You said he didn’t leave any coordinates, just a description of how to get there.”

“Are you only thinking about that now? You got into a car with me, with the intention of driving to the middle of nowhere, even though you had no idea _where_ exactly we were going?”

Kara lets out a sharp breath. “So what if I did? You said you knew where to go.”

“Do you realize how _dangerous_ that is? What if all of this is just a way to lure you away from the DEO? I could have intentions to seriously hurt you!”

“You don’t,” Kara says, just a second too quick. “Do you?”

“ _No_ ,” Lena says, unable to keep her voice to a normal level. “But I could have. You can’t just get into a car with people who could potentially harm you.”

“You sound like my mother warning me about taking candy from strangers,” Kara sighs. “But you’re not a stranger.”

“I’m a Luthor,” Lena says, even though every fiber in her being abhors that fact. “That’s arguably worse in your case. A stranger’s laced candy couldn’t do much to you, but a Luthor? Who knows what toys are hidden in Lex’s hideouts.”

Kara falls back into her seat. “Whatever, Lena. I’m not gonna entertain your hypothetical scenario where you’re the villain we both know you’re not.”

Lena’s heart does a loud _thump thump thump_ even she can hear, but she ignores it. Truth is she doesn’t know how to talk to Kara. She hasn’t known how to talk to her since she told Lena she was Supergirl. Figuring out how the puzzle pieces all fit together gives Lena a headache, and she finds it easier to just be angry about it.

A few minutes of silence later, the hardened road ends. Lena’s not confident about her car’s ability to drive on an unpaved path in the woods, so she turns off the engine. “We walk from here.”

“Lena—”

“I’m sure.” Lena unbuckles her seatbelt and reaches for her purse—the one with the handgun in it. She takes it out. No need for purses tonight.

She wordlessly gets out of the car, the Timberlands she swapped her heels for hitting the broken asphalt. She walks around the car and opens the trunk to pull out a flashlight. Its beam is nearly as strong as the car’s headlights and considering the fact that it already feels like it’s the middle of the night she’s glad she packed it.

Kara evidently needs less preparation. When Lena rounds the car with her flashlight in one hand and her gun in the other, Kara’s suit is in the process of materializing over her normal clothes.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Lena says, passing her with the roll of her eyes. “It might be better to just be Kara, my reporter friend who is 100% human, on this one.”

“I thought you said there’d be no one here,” Kara says, but she puts her glasses back on and the suit disappears like nothing ever happened. Lena prefers this look.

“I learned not to assume anything where Lex is involved except danger and destruction,” Lena replies, the tone of her voice almost heartbreakingly casual. She starts walking as to not think about it for too long.

Kara follows her, and they walk in silence for a few minutes. Without the hum of the car engine it’s even quieter than before, all the normal forest sounds having died out when the cold winter air made its way across the land. The only sound Lena hears for what simultaneously feels like endless hours and mere minutes is the wind rustling the leafless branches of the trees towering over them.

Just as the cold is starting to seep through her clothes, her flashlight beam falls on a house. More specifically: a house in various states of decay. It’s surrounded by a fence that’s broken in various places and all the windows are busted. The bricks look brittle and like they’re only being held together by the moss growing on them.

A shiver that has nothing to do with the cold runs down Lena’s spine. Her entire body screams at her to turn around and leave; whatever Lex did here is better left alone.

“Creepy,” Kara comments, rather dryly, as she starts walking towards the house. When Lena doesn’t follow, she turns around. “Come on, this must be it, right? There’s nothing else around for miles.”

Lena doesn’t comment on how Kara somehow managed to miss this structure and she’s not sure Kara’s senses are the most reliable right now. She takes a deep breath and follows Kara through the gate that’s hanging from its hinges.

An uneasy feeling settles in the pit of her stomach as she steps onto the property. It looks like no one’s been here for decades, even though in the back of her mind she knows Lex used to spend time here before being arrested the first time.

She can’t shake the feeling that there’s someone behind her at all times, but every time she turns to look around there’s no one.

_Crack_.

Lena’s head snaps up. Kara’s leg is stuck where it sank through the wooden planks of the front porch. She pulls, hard, and the wood snaps in multiple places, filling the eerily quiet forest with noise that sounds close to gunshots. It makes Lena’s blood run cold.

“Sorry,” Kara says.

“It’s okay.”

Lena climbs the steps and crosses the front porch to where Kara is fumbling with the front door, careful to avoid the hole Kara’s leg just made.

“I can’t get this door to open,” Kara says, rattling the handle a little. She doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by the fact that they’re trying to break into a house where God knows what happened in the middle of nowhere. Doesn’t seem to feel the sudden plunge of coldness that has nothing to do with the actual weather.

Kara shoves her shoulder into the door and it falls inward, sending a layer of dust into the air. “Sorry,” she says, again, and enters the house.

Lena doesn’t know what she hates more; the floral wallpaper, the moth-eaten floral curtains or the dirty mirror reflecting their own shadowed faces back at them. The house is decorated like a normal house, for as far as abandoned houses in the middle of the woods can be normal, but the furniture is covered in a thick layer of dust.

Kara turns to look at Lena. “What are we looking for, exactly?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is it, like, a weapon? Research? A thumb drive?”

“I don’t know.” Lena goes into the kitchen area. There is a spider in the sink; it scurries away when she shines her flashlight on it. The cobwebs hanging from everywhere cast strange shadows on the walls.

“I thought you said you knew what we were doing here,” Kara says.

“I knew where I was going. I don’t know what we’re looking for. Could be anything, so keep your eyes open. Knowing Lex it’s probably hidden in a place so obvious we don’t bother to look.”

Everywhere Lena steps, a footprint is left in the dust. She tucks the gun away in the back of her pants.

They open every cabinet and drawer they come across. A lot of the things they find are dead. A nest of dead baby mice, the bones of a bird that must’ve flown in and gotten stuck, and countless spiders; their legs curled up.

Lena’s really starting to regret coming here. She didn’t care when they were in the car, but right now even knowing that Supergirl is with her can’t calm her racing heart. She balls her hands to fists to keep them from shaking.

Everything in the kitchen is, albeit dusty, perfectly placed. The six cups in the cupboard are all positioned the same, there are six plates neatly stacked on top of each other, and even the cutlery drawer is extremely organized. (There are six sets.)

Kara opens the last drawer and reaches inside. She feels around while Lena watches her with growing anxiety, then shrugs and closes the drawer. “It’s empty.”

“You just stuck your hand in a creepy drawer in a creepy house that belongs to my creepy brother,” Lena says, shaking her head. “You’re insane.”

Kara shrugs. “I’m invulnerable.”

“Maybe we should split up, search each room individually. The faster we’re out of here, the better.”

“That’s the worst idea you ever had,” Kara says, following Lena as she walks into the living room. “That’s how people die in horror movies.”

“This isn’t a horror movie,” Lena says, kicking her boot against the sofa with a floral print. It groans and buckles under its own weight. The sound echoes through the house. Lena pretends it doesn’t frighten her. “Just go into the dining room already.”

Kara does as she’s told, muttering objections under her breath, but as soon as she left the room, Lena regrets sending her away. Without Kara around, she becomes even more aware of how dark and quiet this place is. All she can hear is her own breathing and the sound of her boots against the wooden floorboards. She can’t even hear Kara in the other room.

The living room is just as neat as the kitchen. There are no signs of life, past or present, anywhere; no pictures of the inhabitants that used to occupy this house, no items out of place. Even the books on the shelves are brand new, despite the dust settling between the pages.

Opposite the door is an oil painting of a beach, the fake gold of the frame peeling off in multiple places. It looks heavy, and when Lena tries to lift it off the wall, it _feels_ heavy too.

“Kara?” Lena calls out.

There’s no reply.

A chill spreads through Lena’s body.

From the corner of her eye, she spots a shadow where the room turns a corner. She lets out a relieved sigh. “There you are. I need your help lifting this painting.”

The shadow moves around the corner, away from Lena, but Kara doesn’t appear. A wave of fear turns Lena’s blood into ice. Something lodges in her throat and for a second she can’t breathe properly.

Something strange is going on here, but she can’t put her finger on what.

A dark figure appears in the doorway. Lena screams. Then Kara steps into the beam of her flashlight.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh my— _fuck_ , Kara. You scared me.”

“Sorry,” Kara says, moving closer to Lena. Her coat is covered in dust and there’s dirt on her cheeks. “The dining room was empty. I mean, not _empty_ , just. There wasn’t anything interesting in there. Just more plates and stuff. But the table was set with all this fancy tableware, and none of it had dust on it, except for the sixth set. Weird, huh?”

Lena nods wordlessly. Her tongue feels heavy in her mouth, all the little hairs on her body standing right on end. She wants nothing more than to get out of here, but Alex will kill them if they come back empty-handed. Still, something isn’t right here. She can feel it in her bones, even if she doesn’t know _what_.

“You were in the dining room this entire time?” she asks, unable to keep her voice from shaking. “The one next to the kitchen?”

Kara nods. “Why?”

“Just—” Lena’s throat closes up. She shakes her head. The implications of that… she doesn’t want to think about it. “Never mind.”

Kara gives her a long look, but she doesn’t push. Instead, she turns to the painting. “Did you want me to take this off the wall? Do you think something might be behind it?”

“Could be.”

Kara takes the painting and, in a strained voice, says, “Anything? Gee, this thing is heavy.”

Lena runs her hand over the back of the painting, but she doesn’t feel anything out of the ordinary. She tries to look at it from different angles with her flashlight, but she comes up empty—again.

“Are you done?” Kara huffs and the words have barely left her mouth before she drops the painting, the wood creaking underneath their feet. “Sorry, it was really heavy.”

“You can carry airplanes but a single painting is too much?”

Kara’s breath is labored and she leans against the wall. Her hands are visibly shaking and when Lena shines her flashlight onto Kara’s face there’s a layer of sweat on her brow.

“Is there any Kryptonite anywhere?”

But Kara shakes her head. “Whatever’s going on here isn’t Kryptonite. Kryptonite doesn’t just make my powers go away, it makes me feel like there are flames melting the flesh off my bones. This doesn’t do that. It just makes me weak.”

Whatever courage Lena still had is instantly drained from her body. If something is stopping Kara from being Supergirl, then coming here was an even worse idea than she’d previously thought.

“Do you think Lex protected this place with anti-Kryptonian measures?” she wonders aloud, but Kara doesn’t reply.

She’s staring at the painting, a crease formed between her eyebrows. She points at a small figure of a man wearing a bowler hat on the beach. “Was this there before?”

Dread floods Lena’s veins. “I think we need to get out of here.”

Then, as if on a cue, she hears footsteps on the floor above them.

Kara opens her mouth to say something, but Lena presses her finger against her lips and hisses, “Shh. I think I heard something.”

Kara’s eyes widen and she presses her lips into a tight line. They listen for a minute or so, but the house is quiet again.

“I don’t think—” Kara starts, but at the same time the footsteps reappear, and Lena clasps her hand over Kara’s mouth to shut her up. She holds up a finger, pointing at where the sound is moving from one room to another just above them.

“What do you hear?” Kara whispers as soon as Lena removes her hand.

“Footsteps,” Lena whispers back, barely suppressing the urge to curl up into fetus position and cry. Her limbs feel impossibly cold and numb at the same time, and her heart is hammering against her chest so hard she’s positive Kara can hear it even without super-hearing. “Do you _not_ hear them?”

Kara shakes her head. “Do you think we should take a look?”

“ _No_ ,” Lena shoots back. “Absolutely not.”

But Kara’s already on her way, the staircase creaking underneath her feet.

“What the _fuck_ , Kara,” Lena hisses, but the thought of staying downstairs all on her own possibly scares her even more than going upstairs with Kara, so she’s quick to follow. Turns out the stairs don’t only sound like they’re about to break, they feel like it, too. Every step feels wobbly and the feelings of dread and anxiety don’t subside when she reaches the top and Kara’s standing there; frozen and staring at something in one of the rooms.

Her anger with Kara having long left her body, Lena grabs Kara’s arm in an attempt to hide from whatever’s in the room.

But nothing leaps out at them. No cold hands grab her shoulders, even though Lena still can’t shake the feeling that there’s someone standing right behind her. She resists the urge to turn around and press her back against Kara’s.

When Kara doesn’t move or say anything, Lena dares to peer past her into the room. She instantly regrets it—regrets it even more than coming here in the first place.

The room is completely empty with the exception of five porcelain dolls lying in various positions on the floor, each of them facing towards the ceiling.

A strangled sob escapes Lena’s throat and she buries her face against Kara’s shoulder. Kara doesn’t even seem to acknowledge her. All the muscles in her body are tensed up and she’s trembling slightly. Lena feels the rapid beating of her heart against her cheek.

She clings to Kara like a lifeline, and for a minute they stand staring at the dolls like they expect them to move.

(Maybe they do. Lena wouldn’t even be surprised if they turned their little heads to look straight at them with blue, hallow eyes.)

Nothing happens, though, and Lena can feel Kara starting to relax. She feels Kara turn around and wrap her arms around Lena’s shoulders, pulling her closer to her. They’re both still trembling and even the warmth of the embrace isn’t enough to warm Lena’s freezing body.

For a moment time freezes and it’s just the two of them, the house around them melting away. Lena’s heart skips a beat for a whole different reason, and in an unguarded second she lets the flashlight slip out of her hand.

It clatters to the ground with an impossibly loud sound that echoes all throughout the house. A pained wail rises up from somewhere below them, followed by the slamming of a door. A gush of wind blows through their clothes, makes them jump apart.

“Please tell me you heard that,” Lena whispers, her throat so closed up her voice is barely audible.

Kara nods. “There’s someone downstairs who needs our help.” Something in her eyes has changed—the fear is replaced by something else.

Lena knows what’s about to happen before it happens, and she instinctively takes a step back. Kara rips the glasses off her face and while the suit materializes over her clothes, she runs down the stairs.

“I don’t think whoever’s down there is… alive,” Lena says, her voice trailing off at the last word. But Kara doesn’t hear her, and Lena’s left with only one option. She follows Kara down the stairs, back to the hallway.

From the corner of her eye she notices the painting is back in its original place on the wall, and the figure inside of it has walked closer to the surface.

“Kara,” Lena says, choking back on a sob. “ _Kara, where are you_?”

In the mirror across from her, a small figure appears—a child. Its clothes are bloody and in place of its eyes are black holes. Its lips are curled up into a smile. It turns its little head to look at an open door, where a staircase leads to the basement. A strange smell emits from it, tickling at her nostrils and causing her stomach to turn.

A gush of wind pushes her towards the door, its touch like ice on her skin.

Lena whips around, but there’s no one in the hallway except for her. She shivers, cold sweat running down her back. Her vision blurs as she stumbles down the stairs, and she suddenly remembers she left her flashlight upstairs. Still, a faint greenish light shines from the basement, and she walks towards it like a moth drawn to a flame.

When she reaches the basement, the first thing she sees is Kara standing in the middle of the room in her super suit. The second thing she sees is the bodies.

There’s five of them, torn up and in various states of decay. Each on a separate table not unlike the ones in her own lab. In the back of her mind she realizes their positions resemble the ones of the dolls upstairs.

An overhead lightbulb casts eerie shadows on them, and there are flies everywhere. Then the smell hits her so hard she doubles over and dry-heaves. Her knees buckle. She’s about to hit the ground when two strong hands grip her arms, hoisting her back up.

For a second, her lungs contract and she tries to struggle free, then she hears Kara’s trembling voice in her ear. “Let’s go back upstairs.”

The stench of rot makes Lena’s eyes water and tears roll down her cheeks and she leans back into Kara’s arms, choked sobs shaking her body.

“We don’t need to see this,” Kara says, trying to gently tug back towards the stairs. But Lena pushes Kara off of her, walks towards the bodies. One of them has decayed so much its face has almost completely retracted into the skull, the blackened layer of whatever skin is left over stretching thin. Maggots are crawling inside the eye sockets.

Three of the bodies are smaller than the other two; children.

Is this what Lex wanted her to find? He must’ve known she’d eventually find the remainder of his journals and decode the contents.

If she hadn’t shot him already, she’d shoot him again.

Another wave of nausea hits her, hard, and she vomits all over the tiled green floor. All the terror she felt mere minutes ago has vanished, completely replaced by an overwhelming disgust and disbelief. She knew Lex was a bad man, but this… her eyes fall on the mangled bodies of the three children again.

She steps over the pool of vomit and approaches the one empty table in the far corner of the room, where an old computer is stationed. The lighting is faint and her own shadow makes it hard to see anything, but she finds a thumb drive and a notebook that’s filled with vague scribbles. Despite the bad lighting, Lena can make out the diagram of a human body and hastily jotted down notes about the process of dying and the possibilities of resurrection.

She turns around to where Kara is standing next to one of the children’s fly-infested bodies, tears in her eyes.

“We’re done here,” she says, holding up the thumb drive and notebook. “We got what we came for.”

They climb back up the stairs to the hallway, where the child in the mirror is gone, and the front door is back in its hinges. Lena’s too tired to be scared anymore. She tries the handle; it gives.

As soon as they’re outside, the door falls shut again, and Lena doesn’t want to know if it can be re-opened. Her legs seem to move on their own accord as she crosses the front porch, the lack of a hole in the wooden planks vaguely registering in the back of her mind, until she’s out of the gates.

Unsure as to why, Lena turns around to look at the house one more time, and the porch light flickers once, twice, three times. Then they’re surrounded by darkness once more.

Kara wordlessly slips her hand into Lena’s, and Lena lets her. Whatever anger she felt towards Kara seems stupid now. All that matters is that they made it out of the house alive, even though the family that lived there didn’t.

They walk in silence for a few minutes, Kara leading them this time, and as the adrenaline in Lena’s blood disappears, she’s overcome with exhaustion. One foot in front of the other becomes harder and harder, and she stumbles a couple times. One time it’s because she trips over the flashlight she’d dropped on top of the staircase. She doesn’t have the energy to pick it up.

Kara never lets go of her hand, though, and for a while the skin-on-skin contact is the only thing that brings warmth and sanity.

“My powers are back,” Kara says eventually, once they’re far enough away from the house its grasp can no longer touch them. “Do you want me to fly us home?”

Lena blinks, looking up at the outline of her. “We need to go back and bury the bodies.”

“They didn’t want us there.” Kara’s voice is soft, steady in a way Lena doubts she’ll ever feel again. “It’s better to leave them alone.”

Lena says nothing, the lump in her throat too big to speak again, even though she thinks otherwise. She lets Kara wrap her arms around her body and closes her eyes. Kara jumps and then they’re flying, higher and higher towards the moon. ~~~~

From this height the woods below seem a lot less terrifying, but Lena doubts she’ll ever be able to shake the chill that seeped into her bones tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> well, this was a wild ride. it was my first time writing horror, a genre i actually hate, and i scared the shit out of myself. so please let me know what you think and if i also scared the shit out of you by leaving kudos and/or a comment!
> 
> alternatively you can find me on twitter @luthvers and tumblr @ lenacorporations 
> 
> thank you astrid & megan for proofreading and giving feedback on how to make it scarier. 
> 
> title is from beautiful ghosts by taylor swift


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